When I order a cup of coffee, go to a diner, or get my haircut—I dream about being greeted as a friend.

“Hi, Blake! Want the usual?”

“Yes, Jim, that’d be great,” I’d say. 

“And how’s your family?”

“Awesome. Austin won his basketball game last night, and he played really well.”

I think about being able to know my barista’s favorite baseball team, my waiter’s worst fear, and what confuses my barber about the idea of God.

I think we all want that. Or at least we’ve considered wanting that. Some version of that, at least.

We want to walk into a place and feel like they were expecting us, immediately feeling connected to it by the bond of relationship. We don’t just want to know names of people. We want to know details about them, and we want them to know details about us. We want our barista-turned-friend to be more than the logo stitched into his apron. 

But what does it take to become a regular at places, anyways?

I guess we just show up consistently, be loving as much as we can, ask a lot of questions, and act predictably.

Showing up regularly to the coffee shop, being nice to our waiter, asking our barber about her life, and ordering the same thing most of the time.

This is an idea that transfers to all the relationships in our lives. 

If we want to know and be known by those around us, we have to show up consistently in their lives. Even when it’s boring or feels like a chore.

We have to love them enough to stick around when they cuss us out or don’t return our calls.

We have to ask questions, becoming more interested in them than we are in ourselves.

We have to act predictably, starting a track record that let’s the people around us expect our next action won’t be intended to cut them down.

Of course, we won’t be perfect. But neither are the regulars at the coffee shop down the street. They won’t show up for a couple days because they’re tired or out of town. But when they return, the barista will be there to greet them.

“Where have you been? We’ve missed you,” he’ll say.

-Blake Mankin